Chapter Two #2
Micah, we may have met under unusual circumstances, but at a young age you had this quiet confidence about you.
I’ve come across many arrogant artists in my day, and when you walked into my class, your smirk made me think you’d be no different.
I’ve never been more happy to be wrong. You kept to yourself, but you were always watching, observing.
You always knew exactly what you wanted to do with your work, but you were also always the first to help someone when they didn’t.
Life has thrown you both curveball after curveball, and it’s molded you in different ways.
Dani, you’ve become scared of letting yourself have anything good, for fear of losing it.
You deserve all the good things. Grab them and hold on tight.
Micah, you’ve become convinced that you don’t deserve the good things that have come to you.
I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you this, but let me reiterate the point: you have earned every bit of your success.
Do not let anyone, including yourself, steal your joy.
I have watched you both grow from young hopefuls with dreams and ambitions to still young but older hopefuls who have actually seen their dreams realized.
Some of those dreams haven’t been what you thought and some have been more than you imagined, but you’ve accomplished them all the same.
If I could give you any advice? It would be to never stop dreaming.
If you stop, what reason is there to wake up?
Okay …
Well, now that I’ve buttered you up, I figured it’s time to make my final requests.
Here’s the first:
I instructed Victor to give you this letter after the funeral so that this would make more sense. I’m sure you noticed that my funeral was far from anything I would’ve ever associated my name with, full of phony try-hards I absolutely despised in life.
That’s because the funeral was for appearances only. People love to act like they give a damn about you once you’re gone when they wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire when you were alive. That’s fine, let the frauds shed their crocodile tears. I don’t want them anywhere near my real homegoing.
That’s where you come in. There isn’t anyone else I’d want to plan my homegoing than you two, so should you choose to accept, I leave this and the task of cleaning out my house in your hands.
I want you to hold a gala in my name and auction off my things for charity.
I’ve been fortunate enough to accumulate quite a few gems over my lifetime, and it would mean the world to me for them to find new homes that will cherish them as I did.
Whatever you do, do it up big. When you think you’ve gone overboard, do a little more.
I only have two rules:
Do it together. It’s important to me that you’re together on this every step of the way. No dividing and conquering, no passing the planning off to a professional. The two of you are capable of creating magic together, and that’s exactly how I want to go out.
Make magic. I want you to auction off something together. I don’t care what it is as long as you do it as a unit.
Easy enough? Here’s the catch:
There’s some things I need you to do for me. Some places you’ll need to go, people you’ll need to meet, and things you’ll need to get.
If you’re going to throw a gala in my honor, you’ll need a more complete picture of me. You’re probably thinking what else could I have possibly hidden from you. I lived quite a life, and there are parts of my story you don’t know. I want to share them with you now.
Victor will have the details of your first task, but it’ll be up to you to find the rest along the way. I trust you’ll rise to the challenge.
Anyhoo, I guess I’m done rambling on now. This is a lot to take in, I’m sure, and I’m sorry for that. I know that I’ve had more time to process the end of my life than you have, but please don’t be sad for me. I’m ready to be with George and my family again. I’ve lived a full life with no regrets.
How many people get to say that?
Thank you for honoring an old woman with the gift of family.
Love you deeply,
Tanya
A scavenger hunt. She’s sending us on a damn scavenger hunt.
That woman really left us a multitude of assignments like a professor going on sabbatical.
I’m half expecting Mr. Townsend to pop up with a Blackboard login page next.
It wouldn’t surprise me if Tanya told him to grade our performances when this is over.
Micah laughs. It starts off like a slow rumble, gradually becoming a full guffaw. “I was worried that she might’ve lost her light at the end, but this is so fucking Tanya. I’m glad.”
I take him in before turning to see Mr. Townsend with a restrained smile on his face.
He’s right. This illness stole everything from her, but she held on to her fire until the very end.
I cling to that shred of relief with everything in me.
Micah and Mr. Townsend talk more about formalities, but I have nothing left to contribute. I reread the letter three more times before we finally bring this meeting to an end.
I practically run out of the office before I remember I have to wait for Micah or else be the biggest bitch for leaving him stranded.
He strolls out of the office, hands in his pockets, and stands by my side. “She clocked you,” he says.
“What?”
“She said you were probably taking your anger out on the lawyer. She was right.”
“And she said you were probably trying to create a time machine to go back and save her. So what?”
He sucks his teeth. “She ain’t say nothing about no time machine.”
“Might as well. Look, I don’t know about you, but I need a minute to process this, so are you ready to go?”
He hangs his head. “You okay to drive?”
“I’m fine.” As always.
“Then I don’t need a ride.” He holds my keys out for me to take.
I balk in his direction. “What about your car?”
He points toward the back of the parking lot where Rome waits in Micah’s car. He must’ve texted him to bring it here.
“I figured you’d want to go our separate ways after this.”
He thought right.
“Thank you.” I pause. “And thank you for getting me here.”
“You’re welcome, Dani.” He pats me on my shoulder and steps away from me.
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I grab his wrist. “That’s it? You’ve been fighting to be in my space all day.” Not that I want him to. Of course I don’t. It’s just odd.
He smirks. “Didn’t you read the letter? We’re about to be seeing a lot of each other.”
His words ring in my ears long after he pulls out of the parking lot.